


Barbe à Papa

by MarigoldVance



Series: des p'tits sucrés [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (animal spirits), (shape shifters), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Carnival, Cotton Candy, Fairgrounds, Fox!Fíli, M/M, Otter!Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/pseuds/MarigoldVance
Summary: to the sweetest, most supportive darling on the planet: thank you so much for always being the first to notice my creations. you show me the sun every time you support what my scribbly mind comes up with and i cannot thank you enough❤️*originally posted to theSecret Admirers Collection
Relationships: Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: des p'tits sucrés [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900903
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	Barbe à Papa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_am_still_bb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_still_bb/gifts).



> _to the sweetest, most supportive darling on the planet: thank you so much for always being the first to notice my creations. you show me the sun every time you support what my scribbly mind comes up with and i cannot thank you enough_ ❤️
> 
> *
> 
> originally posted to the [Secret Admirers Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SecretAdmirers2020)

The world flashes in neon around them, the air dense with noise and laughter and the fusion of sweet-salty-savory smells. It’s bright, so bright; loud and chaotic, a surge of everything all at once. Smartly dressed men with long, thin spiders’ legs stride above the sea of heads, their steps far-reaching and slow. They play flutes or toss candy or make exclamations about the exciting and _never before seen_ show to be performed that evening. There are women in tight costumes with bare limbs who tinkle and sparkle and dance and contort their way through the crowd, pointing their toes in various directions when someone asks where to go.

Overenthusiastic clowns with their big, red lips herd people down the winding rows of game kiosks, challenge the brave who agree to participate and taunt them if they lose. One boy isn’t so good-natured, lips white with the pressure of pressing them together and a scowl pulling his face down. He kicks the clown right in the shin and stomps back to his mother. Another child, a little girl in a poufy frock and pigtails, carries a monkey bigger than her from one kiosk to the next, a complacent glint in her pixie eyes. 

Actually, squinting in scrutiny, Kíli is pretty certain that the little girl _is_ a pixie: a child’s height but adult’s proportions and eyes that are too round and too feline to be human. Kíli nudges Fíli with his elbow and points the little girl out, laughing through his nose and biting his lip when the pixie-girl bumps into a stilted man, her line of sight obscured by the body of her giant prize.

Kíli _loves_ carnivals. They bring everyone together. _Everyone_. He and Fíli saw Pallando earlier, spouting wise-sounding silliness over a crystal ball, a bright blue turban on his head. Pallando’s smile seemed out-of-practice and somewhat brittle in the corners but, overall, he was pleased to see them; he even gave Fíli a free _reading_ , whatever that meant. Kíli was too busy enjoying the pretty cards Pallando kept putting down in nonsense order to pay attention to what Pollando was doing with them.

“Over there.” Fíli says and slips his arm around Kíli’s shoulders, guiding Kíli out of the heavy foot traffic of the midway and toward a quieter area where two large picnic tables sit in front of a flamingo pink arbor laced with fat lilac and blue in ribbons and yellow plastic flowers. Beneath it stands a cart the same blinding pink as the arbor, two gold wheels on one end and two legs on the other; on top of the carts rests a shiny metal bowl with a clear bubble lid that has a wide hole in the its center.

Kíli follows closely behind Fíli, hooking his chin over Fíli’s shoulder when they stop to see inside the bowl. He’s pressed in a line against Fíli’s back and he knows, _knows_ , it’s considered inappropriate for some reason, going by the look the man behind the cart is giving them, but he’s too enthralled by what’s happening in the bowl to care. The man seems stiff as a board and grouchy, watching the brothers critically from beneath his brow but he continues his work without a word. 

In the bowl, fine strands of pale pink cotton spin around, gathering around the cone the man dips through the hole and twirls along the edges. When he’s done, he lifts the cone out and presents Fíli with a whopping-huge cloud of pink fluff. Fíli tips his head politely and shoves a dollar bill in the jar on the small table beside the cart and nods at the man for another.

The first, he hands back to Kíli who curls around his side to stand next to him. Kíli takes the cottony monstrosity with both hands and brings it to his face, inhaling the strong scent of sugar. His eyes widen comically, and he positions himself so the cloud is between them and the cart, determined to hide his ignorance from the already judgy stranger. Kíli then glances around the pregnant curve of the cloud at Fíli, raising an eyebrow to ask for instruction.

In response to Kíli’s silent question, Fíli tears a delicate, webby strip from the belly of the cloud and holds it up to Kíli’s mouth, waiting expectantly for Kíli to open wide.

Kíli balks; this is _food_?

“When have I ever done you wrong?” Fíli asks, dragging Kíli’s bottom lip down with the same fingers that hold the strip of cloud. “You’ll love it.”

Kíli loosens his jaw and opens up, tongue ticking out to lick a taste first before sucking the strip and Fíli’s fingers all into his mouth. It’s— _oh_ , it’s very good, indeed! A moan rumbles up from his chest and over Fíli’s fingers, down Fíli’s wrist and into his gut. Kíli licks and sucks and smacks his lips around the sugary cloud, swallowing it far sooner than Fíli would like.

“That’s incredible.” Kíli sighs, tongue darting out to collect the taste from the corner of his mouth.

A cough draws them back into the world, the noise descending again as the man shakes the second cloud-cone in Fíli’s direction. Fíli ducks around Kíli’s cloud to grab his own and rummages a few coins out of the small pocket of his jeans that he drops with a shower of clinks into the jar.

“Thanks,” Fíli grins and turns, pulling Kíli away by the wrist.

They find an empty bench behind the Ferris Wheel to eat their treats. Fíli picks at his slowly, one small piece at a time with long pauses between. Kíli, on the other hand, has his head buried in its flossy middle and chews away in delight. By the end, Kíli’s fingers and chin are pink and sticky, his lips glistening and his eyes sparkling with sugar-rush.

“That was _amazing_!” He declares, leaning into Fíli’s space and nuzzling under Fíli’s ear, brushing gummy kisses up the length of Fíli’s neck.

“Mm, seems to have put you in a good mood.” Fíli agrees, laughing lightly. Fíli turns to inspect Kíli’s progress and is shocked to see the empty paper cone at Kíli’s side on the bench. “Oh dear.”

“Can we get another?”

“Kee … I think we should get you some water, yeah?”

“Does it come in blue? I think I want blue this time. Will it taste different if it’s blue, you think?”

“Just, wait here and I’ll be right back.”

As Fíli disentangles himself from his brother, Kíli tilts to the side and quite suddenly goes green in the face, the sharp movement jostling his stomach. Fíli blanches, worried, and crouches down in front of Kíli, hands on Kíli’s knees as Kíli looks helplessly back.

“I don’t feel so good, Fee.” He admits, holding his stomach with one hand while the other goes to his mouth.

Before Fíli can do anything, Kíli lurches forward and vomits all over the ground and most of Fíli’s left side. Fíli cringes but holds Kíli through it, stroking Kíli’s back as Kíli heaves and heaves, spurting bubblegum pink like a water pistol. The whole fiasco doesn’t last more than thirty seconds but it’s enough for Fíli to feel gross and desperate for a bath. Kíli sways in his seat and pouts at Fíli, eyes watery and cheeks flushed from exertion.

“There you go, kit. Better?”

Kíli groans and bobs his head yes.

“Let’s get some ginger beer and then get you home.” Fíli helps Kíli to his feet, hoisting him up by the armpits, and steadies Kíli with an arm around his waist.

“But Fee,” Kíli protests weakly, “I don’t know if they have blue yet!”

Fíli gives him a flat look, “And I’m not eager to have purple all over me so how about we save that curiosity for tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Kíli sags, still too green for Fíli’s comfort.

The next evening, Kíli is thrilled to find out they do have blue.

Two minutes later, Fíli isn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> i thought about them trying candy floss for the first time when it was introduced in 1904 but i couldn't get the image of a '50s fair out of my head. and Fee wanted a Ferris Wheel so ... who am i to argue with our lionheart? you _cannot_ ignore that face!


End file.
